First off, I’ll say, I enjoyed reading it. I will read the rest of the trilogy for sure.
My favorite part was the lore. The magic of Mistborn feels so different from other magic systems in the zeitgeist and it is extremely refreshing. There are clearly many secrets in this land and I find myself wanting to know all of them. I’d probably enjoy reading a Wiki or a Silmarillion of this world.
But I didn’t love it. I don’t know that I’d recommend it. The writing itself leaves a great deal to be desired. I struggled to keep my eyes from skipping down the page as I read because simply none of the verbiage is beautiful. It isn’t poorly written by any means, it is just simple, almost never creative in syntax or diction. That simplicity–an apparent eschewing of merely aesthetic features–finds its way into the plot and characters as well. Every fact you learn is a Chekhov’s gun for story development, which makes it incredibly easy to predict the twists. If a fact about a character or a creature is mentioned, then you know that Sanderson is pitching a ball up into the air, and with any basic understanding of the rules of storytelling you can know precisely where the ball will come down. Thus, I predicted how mistwraiths would be relevant as soon as we met one; I knew what would happen to Marsh at all times; and I saw one of the main features of the Lord Ruler coming a mile away.
The characters, too, lack nuance, often feeling like stand-ins for a symbol or a tool as opposed to a human. The trope-iness of the characters was at times annoying enough to make me set down the book. A dead ex-wife-for-the-plot named Mare? Seriously? Her name is female horse to match our stallion-like protagonist? It leaves a disappointing taste in the mouth.
And yet, I’m excited for the next book. I want to know the story, I just sort of wish someone else was telling it to me.